The Game Boy: It's The End of the World As We Know It, And I'm Feeling... Bored

That brings us to two very encouraging recent titles: indie ultra-hit Bastion and console cult smash Enslaved. Both games take place under apocalyptic circumstances, but put incredibly novel spins on what's quickly become an aging formula. Most obviously, you won't see a sun-soaked desert that's actually bigger than the sun in either game. Instead, Enslaved imagines a world ruined by man and reclaimed by nature. Bastion, meanwhile, revels in sense-engulfing otherworldliness – spiriting players away with psychadelic visuals, mood-setting music, and a Morgan Freeman-esque narrator who reacts to everything you do. In both cases, these settings are new and strange – maybe even a bit frightening. But that's the point. After all, where's the fun in an apocalypse fantasy if you're just going from one tedious, well-trodden routine to another?
It goes deeper than a mere surface level nip-and-tuck, though. Both Bastion and Enslaved put their own spins on the delicate post-apocalyptic relationship between old and new. In Bastion, a mysterious “Calamity” has reduced the world to rubble and its people to ash, but the titular Bastion can put the whole thing together again, good as new. That solution's simplicity, however, quickly goes out the window when – without spoiling too much – the game starts planting seeds of doubt in your mind. Do you even want to go back? Should you? Who are you doing any of this for?
Enslaved, meanwhile, wages the old-vs-new tug-of-war in ways both big and small. For instance, in one of the game's first environments, an otherwise pristinely green forest gives way to one particularly iconic relic: a US flag. Up to that point, Enslaved felt more like a fantasy story than anything else. That one frayed scrap of cloth, though, forged a powerful link back to reality. “Yes,” it essentially said, “this used to be your world. This used to be your home.”
The rest of the game, then, sees main characters Monkey and Trip struggling to move forward in a society that's still clinging to the past. That, in turn, transforms the game's gorgeous nature scenery into something of a bittersweet pill. After all, the earth's already moved on. The only thing that seems out of place here? People.
For both games, that's just the tip of a tremendously inventive iceberg. Ultimately, the apocalypse at its best isn't a setting; it's an ideal. It's a push-and-pull between old and new that – depending on how it's portrayed – leads to curiosity or reflection or fear or even a few laughs. By its very nature, it charts new territory and sucks us into new worlds. Treading water for too long, then, leads to some very obvious wrinkles – as evidenced by people's reactions to games like RAGE. There's so much potential here, though. It'd be an incredible shame to see it go to waste.
So then, The Apocalypse, are you ready to give this relationship another go? Because I think I'm falling in love with you all over again.